Sunday 05 June 2016          The Solent, UK.

I met up with my friend Nick on Friday in his home port of Portsmouth. Today we’re sailing West through the Solent, him in his boat and me in mine. I’m not a racer but like most non-racers I enjoyed the competition and the banter, texted back and forth.

Nick trying (not very hard) to catch up.

Off Cowes the wind fell light and Nick had to turn back. He had to get home ready for work the next day. Poor bugger. As I sailed on West, having no work to turn back to, I began to realize at last that I really am on my way. There wasn’t much time for naval-gazing, though. Thick fog in Poole Bay kept me jumping from the cockpit to the radar and AIS down below and back up to the cockpit again as other vessels passed close-by completely unseen.I anchored in Studland Bay for the night. I much prefer this. Hopping from marina to marina provides a rather sanitized, dilute version of sailing. Life at anchor always seems more like the real thing.

Studland Bay

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